Chapter Text
When I awoke, I was in the same room I had stayed in on my last visit. Out the window I could see the mountains in the distance glowing orangey pink with the last light of day. Rhys sat beside me in a chair with a glass of whiskey in one hand and the Faery Tale book in the other. A tray of food was on my bedside table. My throat felt raw from vomiting, and I was sure that I looked abysmal. I sat up and Rhys started. “Feyre, are you feeling better? I took the liberty of bringing you a few items that I thought would be easy on your stomach, just in case.”
“You’re here. You didn’t do anything stupid because of me did you?” I admonished.
“No, I didn’t. Mor reminded me that it would be inadvisable to start a war with Tamlin when we are facing a war with Hybern.” He voice became rough with emotion, “If you had been hurt, I don’t know that I could have stopped myself.” I examined Rhys. It seemed that the masks he always wore were put away for the moment. It made me want to reach out and comfort him. I wasn’t sure what he was getting from me, either through the bond or the expression on my face, but he squared his broad shoulders and said in a more composed tone, “For what it’s worth, I don’t think Tamlin wanted to go along with his father and brothers but didn’t feel like he had a choice. I think it’s why we didn’t fight that night.”
“Thank you for telling me that.” I had so much to think about, but now was not the time. Instead, I changed the subject. Nodding at the book, I said, “Which story are you on?”
“I just finished the story about Day’s daemati. I can’t say that I find it terribly accurate. Also, it’s teaching children that it’s alright to subvert someone’s free will. What an abdominal use of a rare skill. Did you find the story about Calanmai to be accurate? Are you looking forward to being this year’s Maiden?” he asked, smirking.
I grimaced. “To be honest, I skipped over that one. I have mixed emotions about Calanmai.” I didn’t mention that he was part of those emotions. So far, my plan to talk to Rhys about the bond and the bargain had not gone at all as I had anticipated. This was my chance to get things back on track. “Why don’t you have a tattoo that matches mine? In the Night Court story, both parties have tattoos. Does that mean our bargain isn’t valid?”
“Hoping to find a way out of coming to visit me Feyre darling?” Whatever he saw on my face made him chuckle. He stood and took off his jacket, laying it over the back of the chair. “You couldn’t look more guilty if I caught you with your hand in a cookie jar. Bargains are magic, and they are binding, but the intent behind the bargain matters as well. I never planned to force you to come here. I only took you away from the wedding because I thought that you needed an escape. Now”, he said teasingly “with your impressive mental shields, it’s the only way I know that you are alright.”
I was far from alright, we both knew it, but I understood what he meant and saw the sincerity behind the words, despite the tone. As I watched, he started to roll up his sleeves and I became distracted by the flexing of corded muscles as he progressively bared more of his skin. Since when did I find forearms sexy? He held up his left arm and I felt the tang magic in the air. Swirling tattoos covered his arm from elbow to fingertip. “I covered mine with a glamour. There were enough consequences for both of us from when we sealed the bargain, I didn’t want to make it worse for either of us. Afterwards, well I kept up the glamour because I didn’t need the reminder.”
I cringed, thinking about what those consequences might have been for him. Amarantha deserved to die a thousand deaths for what she had done to him. Seeing Rhys wear the matching tattoo on his muscled forearm made the bond flare golden and it tried to crawl its way to the surface again. He seemed less affected than I was. Weren’t males supposed to feel the bond first? And what reminder? That I was his mate? Did he hate being tied to me that much? The bond seemed to shrivel and turn cold at the thought.
To distract myself, I grabbed his hand, flipping it over to look at his palm. It was empty. “Ah, that. Well, I did add a little extra flair for yours darling. I needed a way to ensure you were alright, and I couldn’t always check on you in person without risking being caught.”
I dropped his hand abruptly. “So you have been spying on me through the tattoo?” I was livid. “What the hell did you hear?” I was mortified. He knew I couldn’t be in the same room with the color red. Knew that I was vomiting up my guts every night. What else did he know? The thought that he might be listening while Tamlin and I had sex was unbearable.
He grabbed my hand, stopping me before I could storm away. “I swear to you Feyre, I didn’t spy on you once you returned to the Spring Court. I didn’t need to. Before you learned to shield, you blasted your strongest thoughts and feelings across the bond. I spent more time trying to tune them out than listen in.”
“Oh Gods. What did you hear?”
Rhys’s eyes clouded for a moment and then he put on his trademark smirk. It didn’t meet his eyes. “Let’s just say ‘Oh Gods’ was definitely part of it. I would be perfectly happy to never hear you and Tamlin together again. It was bad enough I had to watch him grope you Under the Mountain. I don’t need a front row seat to that.” I was mortified and flushed from my chest to the tips of my newly pointed ears. I sensed his disgust and maybe an undercurrent of something more.
“Jealous?” I wanted it to be a taunt, but it came out sounding more curious than anything. His violet eyes sparkled, and he looked at me with an intensity that made my skin tingle.
Rhys stood, coming over to my side. He leaned down putting his lips almost to the shell of my ear and purred “Don’t worry Feyre, darling. Tamlin isn’t my type.”
I don’t know what response I was expecting, but he always knew how to get under my skin. “Prick.” His laughter grazed my ear, giving me chills, before he pulled away.
Rhys straightened and walked toward the window. Looking back over his shoulder he said, “Oh and Feyre?” I met his eyes, “That fool should get on his knees and beg you to be his High Lady.” He unleashed his mighty wings and stepped out into the night. With a booming flap he was soaring away, leaving me alone with my dinner and my thoughts. I picked up his jacket from where he had left it draped over the chair. I made to move it to the wardrobe and found myself burying my nose in it, inhaling his scent. I hung it up and once again cursed the bond.
Once I regained my ability to form a coherent thought, I ate a light meal and decided to enjoy a luxurious bath while I contemplated everything. I came to a few conclusions. First, and most surprisingly, I felt more like myself during my visits to the Night Court than I had in a long time. I was still traumatized by what had happened Under the Mountain, but having people to talk to that actually listened and saw me for me was like coming up for a breath after being underwater. Here I wasn’t the Cursebreaker (potential or current), or a bride, or doll to dress up, I was simply Feyre. Only Lucien treated me like that, and it was generally discouraged.
Second, I would never fully forgive myself for murdering those two Fae, but I realized how easily I was ready to forgive Rhys for much of what had happened between us. My cousin is a good male. The best. The image I had of Rhys was starting to come into clearer focus and I was beginning to suspect just how much he had sacrificed Under the Mountain, what he had done to survive. I didn’t know what our future held as mates or allies, but here and now, he was my friend, and I wanted to help him face Hybern. If I could forgive his actions in favor of his motives, perhaps I owed myself some of the same grace.
Finally, I was glad that Mor had told me the story about why Rhys and Tamlin were enemies. That’s not the type of thing you would want to learn after you were married to someone. I realized that it wasn’t my place to absolve or condemn either of them. If Rhys was willing to work with me, despite my connection to Tamlin, then I had to convince Tamlin that it was ok too. I had power that could help save Prythian and I was willing to use it. An alliance between our two courts could make all the difference if war came to our shores. Sure, the mating bond with Rhys was a complication, but maybe we would find a way to use it to our advantage in the future.
Despite our challenges, I loved Tamlin, and I really wanted to make things work. I had changed Under the Mountain, but maybe what we would become could be even better than before. I didn’t need to be High Lady, I just wanted to be with him. I saw him and I wanted him to see me. We had always been good at communicating with our bodies, but now it was time to have some honest conversations; about the wedding, the bond, my powers, all of it.
For the first time in months, I felt an inkling of hope. As I let these realizations sink in, I relaxed, skimming my fingers across the surface of the water. As I watched, the water shaped itself around my fingers, responding to my touch. I reached inside myself trying to find the source of that power and shaped the droplets into a butterfly, making it take flight around the room. I could add Summer Court to the list.
